Raden stood frozen in the narrow alley, his breath coming in ragged bursts, his heart thundering in his chest. Master Carthridge Kamebrow, the Mage Breaker, had not yet touched him, but Raden could feel the power of the man's presence—pressing in on him, suffocating him with its intensity.
Every instinct screamed at Raden to run, but his feet were rooted to the ground. His mind raced, torn between the fear of Kacmebrow's testing and the strange pull of curiosity.
"What… what do you mean by anti-magic?" Raden asked, his voice shaky but desperate to understand.
Kacmebrow's lips curled into a thin smile. "Anti-magic is not simply the absence of magic. No, it's something far rarer. A natural resistance, an immunity to magic's touch." He stepped closer, his gaze never leaving Raden's face. "Some would say it's a curse, others a blessing. But either way, it's not something you can control—not unless you understand it."
Raden swallowed hard. He had heard whispers of such things in the darker corners of the ghetto—kids born without magic, cursed to be unable to wield what others took for granted. But he had always thought it was just another myth, another story told to scare children. Now, the Mage Breaker was telling him something different. Something real.
"I didn't ask for this," Raden muttered, more to himself than to Kamebrow.
"No one asks for the things they are given," Kamebrow replied with a strange kind of sympathy in his voice. "But you are this, Raden. Whether you like it or not."
He raised a hand, his fingers close to Raden's chest, and the air around them began to hum with a quiet power.
Raden's heart slammed against his ribs. He could feel it—the way the air shifted, as if the world itself was waiting for the first crack of thunder.
"Hold still," Kamebrow instructed, and his voice, deep and commanding, sent a shiver down Raden's spine. "Let me see if the rumors are true."
Raden nodded, barely able to move, his body stiff with fear and uncertainty. He had no idea what would happen next.
With a swift motion, Kacmebrow's hand dropped toward Raden's chest, and a surge of magic—unmistakable and pure—rushed forward. The air around them crackled, sparks flying like tiny lightning bolts. Raden clenched his fists, waiting for the inevitable sensation—the magic would hit him, would flow through him, would force its way into his body.
But then...
Nothing.
No warmth. No tingling in his veins. No surge of power.
It was like the magic had hit a wall. A barrier.
The Mage Breaker froze, his brow furrowing in surprise. He repeated the action, sending more force, more magic, but it just fizzled out like a flame blown out by the wind.
Raden didn't feel anything—not even the faintest tremor of power.
"That's impossible," Kamebrow murmured, more to himself than Raden. "Anti-magic."
The realization hit Raden like a cold wave, numbing his limbs and his thoughts. He wasn't just powerless. He resisted magic.
Master Kamebrow took a step back, his gaze now calculating. "You've no idea what this means, do you?"
Raden shook his head, still struggling to comprehend the magnitude of what was happening. "No. What… what does it mean?"
"It means you are not just some child with no power. You are something far rarer, and far more dangerous. Anti-magic is a weapon, one that can break through even the strongest mages. It's a rarity I've only encountered a few times in my life. You're a walking anomaly." Kacmebrow's eyes glittered, something dark and calculating swirling behind them. "The empire has no place for you. But I do. You could be useful to me, Raden. In more ways than one."
Raden's mind raced. He was nothing more than a ghost in the world, yet somehow, he had something more powerful than any magic. Anti-magic. A tool that could tear down everything in its path.
And yet, it felt like a curse.
Before he could respond, Kamebrow turned abruptly, his coat swirling as he strode down the alley. "I'll be in touch," he called over his shoulder. "But understand this—you're not just a failure. You're something the empire fears. And that makes you valuable."
Raden stood there, his hands shaking as the weight of Kacmebrow's words sank in.
Meanwhile, at the castle, Jay's life had already begun to change in ways he could hardly understand. He was ushered through halls of marble and gold, his eyes wide as he took in the splendor of the place. The grandeur of it all felt surreal. It was everything he had dreamed of—everything he had ever wanted.
At the far end of a gleaming hallway, a door swung open, and they were met by a young woman who stood with an air of quiet authority. She had blonde hair that shimmered like gold and piercing green eyes that appraised Jay with a sharp, yet curious gaze.
"Jay Racker, I presume?" The woman's voice was smooth, but there was a sharpness beneath it that caught Jay off guard.
"That's me," Jay said, his grin wide as he tried to hide the nerves bubbling under the surface. "And you are?"
"I'm Shara Rohlcrest," she replied, her tone never faltering. "I'll be overseeing your training while you adjust to life here in the castle. Welcome."
Shara's gaze lingered on him for a moment, and for the first time, Jay felt like she was looking past the bravado and into something deeper, something more dangerous inside him.
"Training?" Jay raised an eyebrow. "I thought I'd be—well, I don't know, learning magic?"
Shara's lips curled into a faint smile. "Magic? You've already demonstrated an incredible amount of raw power, Jay. The next step is control. We don't just train mages here. We shape them into soldiers."
Jay's smile faltered for a split second. Soldiers? He had heard whispers about the Imperial Legions, the elite fighting force that wielded magic as a weapon. He wasn't sure what that would mean for him, but it felt like something far darker than what he had imagined.
Shara turned, motioning for him to follow her deeper into the castle. "Come. I'll show you where you'll be staying for the time being. After that, we'll start with the basics: control."
Jay followed her, his mind racing with a thousand questions, but none of them had answers.